Flute Poem

Flute Poem

Memory of grandparents, old wood...I will do my best to keep youthrough the passage of ages.I'll bathe you in oils and resinsas if you were alive,as if you were not just a memoryin which I put life and breath,as Arutam do in this momentin me and now again.

Memory of grandparents, old wood...the man raised you at the precise momentand you did not come back to earth.He carved you and in wisdom found the pointswhere his breath would sing in your memory.Harmony of a lifereflecting this worldin sacred beauty.

You, Arutam, breathe Spirit into my body.My life singsthrough the passing of the seasons,that's beautiful.

Your memory, grandfather,will enchant my life when the man blowsand wakes you up sharing his Spirit. Your Scream, grandfather,which flows through white artsin hands, fingers and feathers of the Shaman:Will it bring harmony into my life,while I observe how I remember an infinite perfection being harmony onlybefore my eyes, every day?

Do you Know? The trees sing.I never went to studywhere that melody came from,but they sing.It's so beautiful they bear the hardest barksbut they keep the sweetest blood,whistle between their leaves as sky, cloud and light...

Have you ever heard the rainbow singing?I saw it, it was a spirit,but without clinging fingers:thousands of threads of light, clouds and skywho danced in the wind in immeasurable beauty.

So tender, I just relax and learn.I called them: feathers.And I learned to jump off,to turn fear into the powerful stimulationreleasing power.I found the confidence.

Now I sing my song and play my flute,but I listen to my Masters,in eternal enchantment.